Never Again

Chapter Three

Hey you guys! Omg I'm so sorry about how long it took me to post this. I've been typing it up for the past hour and a half, haha.. Hope you guys enjoy, thanks for reading!
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"Matthew!" The front door opens and reveals my mother, overly large jewelry and all. I see Matty's hands clench, but I step aside and let my mother know that I am here too. "Oh, and El, of course." She ushers us inside. "Come in, come in! Supper is almost ready."

I slowly walk in behind Matty, looking around. I see the old staircase that Lottie and I used to slide down, and all the different kinds of memories flood my mind: food fights at two a.m., staying up all night watching movies, tea parties, and so much more. My dad walks into the room and I'm hit again; he has a full-grown beard and even has gained some weight.

"Dad?" He looks up and when he spots me he breaks into a smile. Opening his arms, I find myself running into them. He smells like shaving cream and smoke, and I realize just how long it's been since I was here last.

"Oh my Eleanor, it's been too long," he softly says, caressing my hair. I nod my head "yes", and he kisses my forehead.

"Excuse me?" We all turn our heads and see a maid. She's young, younger then I am anyways. "Dinner is ready. If you all would follow me." She gestures toward the dining hall. We all follow, my parents first, and then Matty and myself.

"Hey," hr grabs my hand, holding me back. "You OK?"

"I'm fine." I smile, and he squeezes my hand.

Reaching the table, I see that there are two main dishes among many sides. It's like the maid could read my mind because she says, "The meal in the china is fettuccine in creamy mushroom and sage sauce, and the meal in the wok is Yakisoba Chicken." She pulls off the lids and reveals an array of rice, salad, and potatoes.

"It looks wonderful," I pause, looking at her.

"Clara, Miss Bale."

"It looks wonderful, Clara. And really, it's Eleanor." She smiles, gives a slight bow of her head, and leaves without another word.

"Eleanor, sit. Let's eat." My mother seems impatient already, and I don't wish to worsen it, so I sit down. Once we each have our plates full, my mother begins: "So, Matty, how are the races going?" She twirls some fettuccine on her fork absentmindedly. Matty swallows before answering.

"Well Laura, thank you. I actually have a race coming up." This caught my attention. Matty always lets me know early on about races: times, dates, placements, fees, etc. So why did he keep this from me?

"You do?" I ask.

"Um, yes." He clears his throat. "It's coming up soon, as a matter of fact."

"Oh? When is it? Maybe we could come!" My dad loves boat races. This makes Matty uncomfortable, I can see it in his change of demeanor.

"It's ah, this weekend actually." My eyes widen- so soon.

"Wow, so soon!"

Thank you mother.

"Yes, well, I was asked to join the Hudson River yacht Racing Association just this past weekend." He swells with pride, as should I, but I find myself becoming even more upset. "The next race for the group is this Sunday, the ah, Annual New York Super Boat Grand Prix."

"That is wonderful news!" proclaims my dad. "Now, which group are you in?"

"Chelsea, sir, the Chelsea Yacht Club."

"Good, good. Excellent, really. They are quite the team to be on." My dad stands up and pats Matty on the back. "Good job, my boy." I didn't think that Matty could swell with anymore satisfaction, but he does.